IDKMYBFFJILL?
by Cassend
Summary: "-I'd be a wayyyyy better doctor than him. Jill, I'm going to be a doctor, I think. You know, after people stop trying to unleash doomsday every other Friday night- I can't even spend a weekend without somebody deciding "OH HEY, ZOMBIE-BANDWAGON."  Crack


_ABC- HELLO AND WELCOME TO THE MAGNIFICENT WORLD OF CRACK HUMOR. YES, THAT'S RIGHT- CRACK. HUMOR. _

**_keep that in mind! HUMOR, CRACK._**

_THE DRAMA..._

_co-written with CannibalCobra (ClaireSandwich on deviantart)_

_this. is. pure. fun. NO SRS HERE! be prepared for DRAMA, EMOTIONS- WESKER, FEMALEFEMALE FUN AND MORE..._**  
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**IDKMYBFFJILL**

EPISODE I

**THE REVENGE OF THE THERAPEUTIC LARP**

**(extensive therapy)  
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Jill Valentine was not in the best shape of her life for an all-nighter. It was actually advised that she get copious amounts of sleep, drink five times her own weight in water each day, and stay off her feet. The woman thought this entire routine was a bit over-perpetuated and excessive- not to mention the exact same treatment for the flu, just making it more ridiculous. Hence why, being the type to not heed advice she found stupid (overprotective, unfitting, and irritating), she was being a rebel and going against the system.

And then she felt a little like her brains shut down about six or seven hours ago, not recalling the brunt of the night thus far, too tired to remember exact events in order. Sometime during this spontaneously planned "sleepover", she had been gifted the name "Blondie", had run to a gas-station convenience store for the sole purpose of buying five kinds of candy she wasn't going to eat

But as Jill laid drooped over Claire Redfield's bed, eating a thick rope of Twizzlers with a blank look on her face while Claire's pick of the obscure b-movie 'Terror Toons' played on the small television, she could say she had been worse. She'd been less tired too but that wasn't the point.

Claire sat behind Jill on the mattress with crossed legs clad in fuzzy pink pajamas with little ducks printed on them. She wasn't as troubled as Jill. Just a mildly obscure free spirit who had basically given up on love/ social interaction after Rockfort but that was ok, because she never complained. Even now, her tired 5AM form was trying to resist a mad giggle fit, or a hyper homicidal candy fueled rampage/ rapid sugar coma, she couldn't tell which.

"I'm going to sprinkle your candy with cocaine," Claire decided out of the blue. "I'm too tired to be watching these bright colors and then look down and see you contemplating Twizzlers with a sad wrinkly dog face, thus making me emo." She frowned, unsure if that came out right but digressed. "What does that therapist do for you anyway? Hell, I'd even be a better shrink!"

At first, all Jill's brain registered was the word "cocaine", followed closely by "dog face" and "therapist".

"Uhhh-?"

Words mulled about in the fatigued sponge that was her brain- taking a while to soak in. Cocaine dog faced therapist?

**...What**?

_Ohhhh_...

" Oh, come on. Who would you even get drugs from? Chris?" Jill rolled her eyes, chuckling slightly at the bizarre concept, before pulling her Twizzler apart and waving it at the television. "Take that DOCTOR!..." she told (or rather absently slurred) the green 'Doctor Carnage' before rolling over to face Claire, straight faced, stupid toned. "Well, I do remember Chris was in the mafia..?."

Claire giggled, rocking back and forth, holding her legs tight to her chest, yanking her current chew toy of a candy out of her mouth. "Seriously though, what does that therapist do? Enlighten me."

"Chris is bad people, I am telling you..." Jill snorted as that ship sailed WAY over the horizon of dry humor, and she bit into the red stringy candy. "My doctor has me write letters and talk about stuff. Sometimes makes me role play things out that I want to say." The blonde sighed and wiggled the remainder of her Twizzler a bit like a pompom, the bits squirming between her fingers.

She decided that this was the weirdest and most disgusting-looking candy in the world before drunkenly flopping back. "Heh, worms."

Claire giggled and gabbed a Twizzler for herself, taking a full contemplative chomp. "You role play with that little fat man? Ew, haha!" she talked, at the same time downing her candy at an astonishing rate. Jill had to hand it to her- she could eat these things like it was NOBODY'S business. What was this, number 16?

. "I double... assure you," Claire slurred. "That I'd be a wayyyyy better doctor than him. Jill, I'm going to be a doctor, I think. You know, after people stop trying to unleash doomsday every other Friday night- I can't even spend a weekend without somebody deciding "OH HEY, ZOMBIE-BANDWAGON.":

She made it a point to flail her arms as if jumping on the preverbal zombie bandwagon. Jill had to laugh, for the first time in a while.

"Alright, doc. I warn you though, I'm a bit of a head case," Jill grinned through the clouded lethargy, where HARK, an idea was born that moment!

Jill swung her legs over the edge of the bed, grabbing a pair of red rimmed sunglasses off of the floor (For Claire's driving, usually), and hid her hands until she made sure to be wielding a new set of pulled-apart, wiggly Twizzlers.

"Hey Claire! No! Wait..."

She inhaled quickly in prep of the most horrifyingly terrible British-y accent to come, purposefully botched and made "MANLY" just for the occasion.

"Dearheart, who am I? Take a guess?" she smirked, though it was less "essence of Wesker" smirk and more of a sleep deprived, fantastic "I see visions of rainbows" smirk. Slowly Jill put her hand under her chin, making a show of the power stance before throwing the palm forward and proclaiming. "I'll give you a hint, I am GOD!"

Still sitting on her bed, Claire lurched over in uncontrollable laughter. For a solid three minutes she had to combat the threat of gagging on pieces of licorice while her lungs collapsed under the effort. It took a while, but eventually she was calming herself and coming up for air.

Of course during that episode, spawning the least sober of her ideas yet.

"No! Wait! Oh my god wait here!" the Redfield darted out of the door at a speed Jill could barely comprehend.

"Uhhh-" She collected her thoughts for the wit, " Seven minutes. Seven minutes are all I can spare to wait for your wiry ass!" Jill yelled out of the room.

Even if Jill was the only one who got that reference, Claire choked on giggles as she raised her messy closet. The sheer TERRIBLE of her accent could probably make babies cry.

Jill waited, arms crossed, as the loud thumping of boxes toppling over graced her hearing. Finally the pony-tail'd, high on sugar/red dye 40 Redfield returned with a big lump of brown leather in her arms and something else she waved around.

. "I GOT YOUR REAL GLASSES, WESKER!" She announced, handing Jill-Wesker a pair of glass-less frames with a pink kitty nose on the fat yellow bridge.

Initial reaction- _Why _and _How_?

Secondary reaction- PURRFECT.

"I now dub thee... Albercat Whisker!"

It had been a LONG time since Jill had laughed, let alone laughed like that. She held her stomach, waving her sugary 'Uroborus' around and replacing the shades on her face with a pair of FAR SUPERIOR AND MUCH MORE FITTING glasses. She felt drunk with delight, grabbing a palm-sized decoration ball that Chris got Claire, a random souvenir with a depiction of the continents painted messily on it. "The world is MINE!" she proudly exclaimed, pausing awkwardly, trying to come up with something witty, but it flew out like verbal diarrhea. "UROBORUS!"

The Twizzlers went wild!

Claire laughed again while Jill let a long, giggle-yawn escape her throat. When defenses were down and the initial outburst sputtered away, Claire randomly jumped in front of Jill, who blinked at such a sudden movement and flailed as the sleep-deprived creases of her brain struggled to process it.

Leon's oversize jacket hanging off of her feminine form, Claire did her most accurate rendition of "melodrama queen", in her opinion- most definitely an award winning performance. "Noooo! I WILL SAVE THE WORLD!"

The finger point to the air punctuated the claim.

" BECAUSE I AM LEON."

Jill was laughing, really laughing- tears in her eyes. "Leon motherfuckin' Kennedy!"

"- AND I LEAVE MY STUPID JACKET AT PLACES WHEN I DO MY STUPID 'DROPPING IN' ACT!"

"Leon-!"

"-AND DO THE WHOLE "I LIKE YOU CLAIRE-"

"Motherfuckin'."

"- But TITS."

"Kennedy."

Jill cracked up and rushed in the heat of the rant, pulling on the black pea-coat she had worn, strutting every bit like her ego was the size of Jupiter, back over to Claire.

"Meoooowwwww!" she replied and popped the collar, and ego died along with Claire.

"Stop Whisker!" she said, so FAILING at the straight "I AM SO PISSED" Leon face.

"You won't get away with this! JUST LOOK at my hair!" Claire spat back, pulling out her ponytail and flipping the auburn-brown locks.

Unexpectedly, making the older woman jump, she then grabbed Jill. The head banging hair act was a little excessive, but she had to, the true Kennedy act called for it!

Called for it into Jill's face, who had to step back to avoid a throat full of "Kennedy wrath".

"You're no match for my hair! BUT TITS ARE MY FUCKING ACHILLES HEEL- NEVERMIND!"

Jill managed to escape the flurry of flying hair and did a half asleep marital arts move placing the "world" on the floor so she could make that Uroborus DANCE.

"You just don't understand do you? HUMANNN! Meoooowwww!" she hissed and ran at Claire-Leon, the entire three steps. "Kennedy, can't you see?" she paused for effect, voice so vile-ly and horrifically "British".

"I just want to create..."

She grabbed her shoulders, dead serious, eyes hard and steely for the briefest moment- catching Claire at attention.

And then the moment was murdered.

"... A WHOLE NEWWWW WORLDDDD. A NEW FANTASTIC POINT OF VIEW."

The Redfield listened to 'Albercat Whisker's' horrible rendition of the Aladdin song, falling to her knees in giggles.

"You're wrong, Whisker! I know I SHALL PREVAIL OVER ALL, because I was a cop for ONE day! JUSTICE!" Claire quickly grabbed her cellphone off of the night stand and mashed all of the buttons. "DIEEE! I'm a COOL SECRET AGENT THAT CAN PRESS RANDOM BUTTONS! EVERYTHING ELSE IS SMALLTIME!- HELLO, HUNNIGAN? HELLO- THIS IS MY LIBIDO SPEAKING- SO WHAT'RE YOU DOING TONIGHT? GOVERNMENT- COOL- ME TOO!"

It was then that Claire pounced up, hyper, obnoxious- and tackled Jill-Wesker to the bed. "We should become one! You're beautiful serenade has swayed me, ma cherie! I'll be your Jasmine, Whiskybaby!"

Jill gasped for breath as she was tackled down during the best-worst fit of laughter that had ever suffocated her, muttering something sounding like 'Noooo glub glub glub-drowninginlavaaaaa! CHRIIIISSSSS' between hacks, coughs, and a laughing epidemic as deadly as consumption.

She rolled Claire over and slowly she lowered her kitty-glasses to smirk and mock-evilly stare into her friend's eyes. "Yes! Onward, secret agent man, we must chase after large titted woman!" Jill announced and pointed to Claire's lamp absently-

"In ugly polka-dotted dresses- I am in!"

"Of course, my dear! Just as long as you leave me the crazy ones."

Claire cheered back and cuddled the Albercat, the stupid became the stupider.

"I'm sooo feminine. Can't you tell by my LUCIOUS hair? But yours is so gelly and slick, Captain Whisker!" Claire mused and ruffled Jill's bangs back.

They were both laughing when Claire made a show of wolf whistling and pelvic thrusting towards Jill (who could NOT keep a straight face after that- not even for Albercat's character.)

Claire twisted away, grabbing the bag of Twizzlers in its bulk. "We shall combine our male egos! But first you must catch me! I'M GOOD AT LEAVING With a BANG!"

With that Claire skipped, yes skipped, to the window and slid it open before jumping out of the first floor.

And Jill stood there with a gob smacked face, having no recollection that they were on the ground floor.

"Claire!" Jill's jaw was agape. She ran to the window, slapping her own forehead when she remembered Claire was on the first floor of her house-like apartment. Momentary crisis averted.

"You took my Uroborus, Kennedy."

Jill followed Claire out of the window, landing much better than her Twizzler hoarding friend, on her feet and not her face.

"Complete Landlord Infuriation!" she cackled after reassuring that the younger woman was in one piece, helping Claire up. "You ok?"

"Ah, yeah, I'm cool. I jump out windows all the time." Claire groaned, and flipped her hair back to normal. She dusted off her pajamas, grimacing as a few brush burns made themselves known. How the hell did he make a habit out of jumping out fucking windows? Whose brilliant idea was that? Jill laughed at her expression and Claire sighed. Jesus, 5am...

"Hey look! The sun!" she pointed and pulled out a new Twizzler, took a bite. "We did well, Whisker."

Jill plopped down on the grass with a "meow" and picked up a stray licorice whip, abiding the five second rule and grinning. "Sure did," she murmured, and watched the sunset, turning kind of soft. This was the clearest, dumbest and best moment she had had in a VERY long time. "Hey, Claire?"

"Yeah?" Claire asked, seating herself next to Jill and collecting the jacket around herself, the thing enormous on her. Her eyes were glued to the sunrise when she felt she jaw being turned and Jill pressing her lips against her own.

Absolutely unexpected.

Claire, paused, breath catching in her throat but didn't pull away. Jill, did, however and smiled. "Thanks," she said and laid her tired head on the Redfield's shoulder, pulling off the kitty-shades.

"No problem," Claire yawned, smirking now and wrapping her floppy jacket arms over Jill, messily.

"We should schedule more therapy sessions. You can pay me with candy."

Meanwhile, upon the roof watched the glowing crimson eyes of a blonde male that should have been badly burnt but only seemed to have gained and intense tan where his own leather clothing had melted and merged into his skin. He had watched them from the point when the Redfield came flying out of out of the window followed by Valentine. The whole thing, namely the 'complete landlord infiltration, baffled him to say the least. What in the hell had gone on while he was dead?

And he watched them kiss and then spotted the figure walking to the yard from Claire's driveway. Leon knew Claire was usually up hellishly early so in his mind there was nothing wrong with popping in to grab his jacket before breakfast.

They were all batshit insane, Wesker decided.


End file.
